Corrupt

by Elena M. Reyes

  But more than that, these tumultuous feelings he evokes set me ablaze.

  It’s why I’m here. Why when he demanded my presence, I didn’t balk or deny him. Instead, I wore his gift and lied to my family with the help of my security, leaving behind the tracking device Laura’s friend found in my phone to corroborate my lie.

  To them, I’m at the studio for a special presentation by a famous competitive duo from Brazil. Untrue; a tiny little fib that my security will support after accepting money from Mr. Lucas.

  I saw it and kept my mouth shut.

  They know it and won’t go against him.

  “Come.” One word; his tone is rich and velvety—the deep baritone gliding across my skin as goose bumps rise. As my nipples tighten. Alejandro extends a hand inside the car, the same one with the tattoos, and I’m taken in by them.

  I don’t let him take me out of the vehicle. I can’t move. Instead, I’m taken in by the mixture of words and vines that wrap around his forearm, gliding my fingertips over each one.

  A door opens and closes in the background.

  His breathing becomes heavy.

  “These are not what I expected.” It’s the first thing I say, recognizing each line from a famous speech given by an ex-President of the republic. One, my family hates because the man single-handedly revoked my grandfather’s past declarations of law. Because he fought to end a constitutional amendment that let the president-elect serve more than one term if he chose to.

  He was also responsible for the release of Alejandro’s father from prison and dropping all charges.

  Fight for tomorrow and never take a step back.

  “Not all things are as they seem.”

  “I’ve heard that line before,” I whisper, letting him pull me from the car a few seconds later. His hand never leaves mine. His grip is tight yet comforting as we walk up two steps that lead into an empty lobby. Not a single person can be found—employee or resident—and the elevator doors are open wide as we slip inside.

  “Press the up button, Preciosa.”

  “Okay.” There’s a small shiver that rushes through me at his tone; a palpable hunger causes my core to clench as I follow his command. I shouldn’t like the way his nickname makes me feel, nor should I allow him to pull me into his lavish penthouse once we reach the top floor of this building, but I do.

  My eyes take in every square inch of his place, cataloging the expensive paintings and opulent furniture—the solid gold fixtures and imported rugs. It’s magazine beautiful and reminds me a lot of where I live now: cold and impersonal. Lacks the same feeling of warmth that’s been lacking in mine for as long as I can remember.

  And the further we walk inside, the more I begin to feel uncomfortable. Afraid to move the wrong way and break something valuable. From the foyer to the formal living room, I walk with a stiffness that makes me force a smile and then take my very first relaxed breath once we step out onto the attached balcony. I’m thankful for the reprieve. The chance to stand outside and watch the city below us as people walk by the building and cars zoom past—life carrying on while we simply stand side by side.

  “You don’t like it.” Alejandro’s statement a few minutes later catches me off guard, and I turn my eyes to him, finding the caramel-colored orbs studying me intently. The furrow of his brows makes him look menacing yet adorable to me. I’m certifiable.

  “You have a gorgeous home, Mr. Lucas,” is what I say instead, like I’ve been groomed to do so from an early age, and he chuckles. Low and throaty. Deep and delicious. “Is there something amusing in what I just said? Did I forget to compliment something specific?”

  Alejandro is unfazed by my narrowed eyes and snark, shaking his head with a smirk on his lips. “Not in the least, Solimar. I find you to be many things, but hilarious isn’t one of them.”

  Turning with my back to the veranda, I lean back and let out a heavy breath. “Why am I here?”

  “Because I want you to be.”

  “Can you please elaborate?”

  “My words should suffice, Preciosa.”

  “That explains nothing, Mr. Lucas.” They leave me with more questions than answers and I sigh, turning my face from him. There’s a woman in his home, a bit older and heavier set, and she’s carrying what looks to be iced tea and some pastries on a tray. She sets them down and leaves, her eyes meeting mine once before she scurries away.

  I don’t know why the simple act makes me wonder how many women he’s brought to this penthouse. How many have fallen to their knees or spread their legs? It bothers me. It makes me feel insignificant in a way that brings forth hurtful reproaches.

  Maybe I’m just a game to him. A pawn. A way to get back at my father, and like a complete and utter fool I—

  “Stop that.”

  “I think it’s best I…” two fingers grip my chin and turn my face “…leave.”

  “Never take your eyes from me.” Alejandro pulls me closer with the firm hold, dipping his face just enough that his mouth hovers over mine. “I don’t like it when you do.”

  My cheeks warm under his intense stare. “And why is that? Tell me why I’m here.”

  “Will that make you happy?” he asks, licking his lips as mine part. I can almost taste him as I follow the movement. His scent: leather and spice infiltrating my senses, and I swallow back a moan. “Make you less afraid?”

  “I’m not—”

  “Don’t lie to me, little doll. That’s a sin I’ll never forgive.” Gone is the look of lust, and what stands before me is the devil incarnate, the obsessed killer my father warned me about, and yet I’m not afraid. Even as his hand falls from my face and he grips my hip, turning me around to face the fantastic view—pinning me as he moves to stand behind me—I don’t want to run.

  Not when his lips press against my cheek and his hand skims up my midsection, stopping at my throat.

  Not when he wraps those strong fingers around my neck and gives it a small squeeze.

  If anything, I like his hold. To feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back.

  And while I may be a virgin, I’m not a prude. I’ve touched myself to thoughts of this very man since the age of seventeen. He’s whose face I imagine as my fingers slide across slick flesh. The reality is more dangerous than the imagination.

  “You don’t scare me, Alejandro.” It leaves me on a whimper as he leaves a trail of tiny bites across the bare skin of my right shoulder. The feel of him this close has made my thighs slick and core ache. “But I do need to know—why me?”

  “You’re here because no one has ever left me speechless with one look.” Another small bite, this one followed by a kiss. “Because I need to know what you’re thinking, feeling…what you taste like.” His exhale is rough against my skin, almost pained, and I can’t stop the small smile of satisfaction it brings. I’m not the only one suffering. “You’re here because life has thrown me a curveball and I plan to catch it and keep it close.”

  10

  HE’S WATCHING ME EAT.

  Face serious and eyes hooded, Alejandro takes in the way the spoon slips past my lips and the way I groan with each bite. I’m not trying to be sexual. I’m not trying to seduce him.

  This rum cake is just to die for.

  “Aren’t you going to eat yours?” I ask, giving him a small smile. My blush gives away how much he affects me. The man has been indulging—treating me to one of the best lunches I’ve had in a long time. Nothing frou-frou or foreign or even expensive.

  After letting him tug me into his dining room with the promise to finish our talk, I was served a bowl of sancocho with all the fixings. The hearty soup with a combination of meats came with a side of rice, avocado, and the ever-present peppery sauce to give it a special kick.

  My mouth watered as the smells, the comforting gesture, settled in, and I leaned over to kiss his cheek. The action felt natural, his reaction heart-stopping.

  His smile was soft with a hint of boyish sweetness that made my hea
rt pitter-patter. At that moment, he didn’t look to be in his thirties, nor the feared man most wouldn’t dare cross paths with. He was just a guy eating a meal with a woman. No pretenses or fake charm.

  And I love it more than I should.

  Alejandro licks his bottom lip. “I’d rather just watch you, Preciosa.”

  “And why is that? You did promise we’d talk over our meal,” I say, bringing the spoon of yummy goodness to my mouth a final time. This last bite is overly saturated with the rum-infused syrup, and a little bit dribbles down to my chin as I savor the decadent morsel.

  Did I do that on purpose? Maybe.

  Is it worth it to see his eyes dilate, fixated on the syrupy flesh? Yes.

  “Because you’re all I can think about. Because I need to know why all this time you’ve been hidden from the public view. My view.”

  “That’s not...” My words simply die off, and I swallow hard. Lifting his hand, Alejandro reaches over and swipes the sweetness from my chin and brings it to his mouth. Lips parting, he sucks his finger clean while eyeing mine.

  “Delicious.” I’m not ready for his groan. For what that sound does to me. Those cognac orbs never leave my face as heat licks at my skin, making me flush from head to toe. More so than before. “The perfect accompaniment to any meal.”

  “Alejandro, I—”

  “Need more of you,” he interjects and stands, his chair scraping against the imported floors, the sound loud in the quiet room where all you hear is my rapid breathing. “It’s near maddening, to be honest.”

  “This makes no sense.” I’m nodding, accepting the hand he’s holding out for me. “Our families hate each other.”

  A rough exhale leaves him when my fingers intertwine with his. “You’re excluded from that.”

  “Why?” It’s driving me crazy. I need some sort of explanation to hold on to—rationality to survive on. “Why me?”

  He doesn’t talk at first. Instead, Alejandro walks us out of the dining room and toward a room down a long hallway. The door is wide open and the large bed at the center makes my body lock up.

  I’m not ready, and my insecurities rise to the surface. I don’t know how to—

  Two strong arms wrap around me, and I’m pulled against a strong chest. Lips are at my temple. “Calm down, Preciosa. I’m not going to taste the sweet cherry between your thighs.”

  “You’re not?” My tone is breathless relief with a hint of disappointment. There’s no denying my attraction to him. I want more of him, but I’m still so unsure of everything else. Of what his motives are.

  “No.” A tiny kiss above my ear. “You’re not ready for me yet, Solimar. We’re just here to talk.”

  “Talk in your room?”

  “Talk in my bed.” Alejandro doesn’t give me a chance to protest or deny his request, and on my next intake of breath, I find myself swept off my feet. He’s cradling me against his hard body, and I can’t help myself, burying my face in his neck so I can drown in his scent.

  “I could’ve walked, Mr. Lucas.” It’s mumbled, which makes him chuckle, the deep vibration soothing.

  “Or ran away.” I can hear the smile in his voice, his tone smug.

  “Would I have gotten far?” My smile widens at the ridiculousness my life has become, but I still can’t regret being here. “Would you have let me?”

  “No.” No shame. No hesitation. A few steps inside and I’m deposited in the middle of what I’m sure is a cloud. Even the beds at the presidential home aren’t this comfortable, and I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the mattress.

  Alejandro moves away from me but doesn’t go far. He’s at the foot of the bed now, hands on the strap of my sandal that he carefully removes, first one and then the other, his thumb running up and down the top of my shins a few times before the mattress dips.

  My eyes open and I take in this beautiful man crawling up the bed to where I am, his eyes taking in my expression. He’s hovering over me, so close that if I sit up just a bit, I could kiss him, but I don’t.

  Instead, I wait.

  Wait a little more.

  And just when I don’t think I can stand the heated stare or the feel of him this close, Alejandro shakes his head with a grin and lays a tiny kiss at the corner of my lips. “Breathe, Solimar.”

  “You’re trouble, Mr. Lucas.”

  “I’m much more than that,” he says, moving to lie beside me but leaves a hand on my hip. His strong grip turns me to face him. “But that’s something you’ll see soon enough.”

  “You’re confusing me.”

  “Not trying to.” At my arched brow he snorts, a sound I would’ve never thought a man like him would make. “I’m just a man getting to know a beautiful woman.”

  That’s a lie. We’ll never be average people.

  “You know who I am, Alejandro. Know the men in my family better than I do.” My voice is low—a little worried, and yet his expression remains the same. No fear. No concern.

  A tsk comes from him before he brings a hand up to cup my cheek. “You’re nothing like them.”

  “How do you know? How do I know you aren’t just using me?” It’s my biggest fear. That he’ll use my attraction against me. That he’ll break my heart if I let him in.

  “Because had that been the case, I would’ve fucked you the very next day and sent you home with my come dripping down your thighs.” A gasp escapes me, and I both want to smack him for the crudeness and slide a little closer because his dirty mouth is a turn-on. I’m in so much trouble. “I’m not a liar, Miss Quintero. With me, you’ll always know where you stand.”

  I nod, but my lips purse. “Were you there at Codicia to meet me?”

  “No. I was there on business.”

  “Okay…” I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in “…I believe you.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Somewhat. This is me giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Thank you,” Alejandro says, rubbing his thumb across my skin before tipping my face slightly up. “And here’s my truth in return…that night was the first time I’ve ever paid attention to anyone in your family that isn’t an adult male. Your mother, younger brother, and you didn’t exist.” My lips part, the questions sitting on the tip of my tongue, but he shakes his head. “Let me finish.”

  “Okay.”

  “It was a shock to the system to learn who you were, but nothing changed for me. That beautiful dancing flower with the sassy smile and sinful body caught my eye; I wanted more. More of you. A taste. To feel you writhe beneath my touch.” Long fingers grip the back of my neck, holding me in place. “So I chased you knowing who you are because I don’t care. Your last name means shit in the grand scheme of things, Solimar. I want you.”

  “Oh God,” I moan, goose bumps breaking out across my fevered flesh at his admission. I believe him; there’s no reason for him to lie when he has me at his mercy. I’m here and in his bed of my own volition.

  His eyes are sincere as they stare into mine.

  His expression is heated, yet there’s a hint of softness there that feels privately mine.

  “Not God, sweetheart. I’m who you worship.”

  My father will kill me for this. “This can’t possibly work and—”

  “I’m not a patient man.” No sooner did the last word pass his lips than his mouth slants over mine, taking liberties that no man has before. He’s stealing my first kiss; a criminally earth-shattering moment that leaves me at his mercy, and when I moan his name, he slips his tongue inside. It’s possessive and hungry and I let him—pulling him closer by the front of his shirt as our tongues caress and I give in. I forget propriety. I forget who he is and who I am while his taste is branded within my DNA. “Motherfuck, Preciosa. So sweet.”

  “More.” It’s all I manage to whimper. I need more—everything—and I welcome his tightening grip as he controls my movements, tilting my head back; he nips my bottom lip before licking the abused flesh. “Ple
ase, Alejandro.”

  “You beg so prettily.”

  “I’ve never done this before. Felt this uninhibited and desperate.” At my admission, an animalistic groan builds in his chest a second before I’m completely pinned beneath his strong body. My hands are in one of his over my head. My thighs are open, my dress nearly exposing my panties as I cradle him where I need his touch.

  “Saying that to a man like me is a dangerous thing, little flower.” Another rough exhale, the thick length in his pants flexing, and I cry out. I’m sensitive and wet, almost embarrassingly so. “You’re not ready for me to take you.”

  “You asked me to never lie.” There’s a hint of a whine in my tone and he smiles, his features softening while his grip remains the same. Tight and controlling.

  “That I did.”

  “It’s all your fault.”

  “I apologize, Preciosa. I’ll behave.”

  “But—” I’m silenced by another kiss, softer this time as he explores me gently, yet the fire remains.

  It’s him.

  His scent. His taste. His touch.

  Alejandro bites my bottom and then upper lip before pulling back. “You’re going to be a lot of trouble, Solimar.” He releases my wrist and then brings each hand to his mouth, nipping the slightly pink skin before laying a kiss there. “The kind that could easily be the cause of Colombia’s demise.”

  “How so?” I’m mesmerized by the feel of him against my core. How big and thick he is. By the tender way he rubs my skin with his fingers while keeping those hungry eyes on mine.

  “Because I’ll never allow you to marry Signio Cortez.”

  Those words register, and the fog I’ve been under begins to fade. His threat is valid. My reality is unavoidable.

  “It’s not up to me.” I hate how weak my voice sounds as I say this. How tense my body becomes. “My father—”

  “Should be taking care of you, not selling you to the highest bidder and alliance. You’re not a pawn.”

  You’re not a pawn.